Embers
by Lady Elleth
Summary: A series of experimental drabbles and doubledrabbles written for SWG's Seven in '07 project. Featuring Maedhros, Umbarto, Nerdanel and Fëanor.
1. Maedhros: Losgar

Author's Notes: A series of experimental drabbles and double-drabbles written for SWG's _Seven in '07_ project. I would welcome constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: The world and characters are not mine, and never will be.

Summary: Maedhros during the burning of the Swanships.

* * *

**Losgar**

The veils of smoke tore, revealing a path of dark water extending far beyond the light of the fire. Almost, he fancied, he could see the other shore, campfire patches of light and miniscule shadow-shapes.

A gust of wind from across the sea caught him in the face.  
Almost, he fancied, he could hear their laments. Or were these voices in his mind?  
For he alone stood aside.

Betrayer to those on the other shore: A son of Fëanáro.  
Betrayer to his family: Mourning those left behind.

_What now?_

As though in answer, the smoke closed in.

He stood alone.


	2. Nerdanel and Umbarto: Return

Disclaimer: The world and characters are not mine, and never will be.

Author's Notes: A double-drabble, HoMe-verse AU. If he had not perished in the burning of the ships, Umbarto would have returned to Nerdanel. What if? Two POVs.

* * *

**Return**

**Nerdanel  
**The cry carried far in the mournful silence of Alqualondë.  
"A ship! A ship returns!"  
Hoping the best and dreading the worst, she ran. Pebbles slipped beneath her feet just as her stony composure slipped through her fingers.  
She reached the beach. Face turned into wind and spray her eyes narrowed against Uinen's tears (the sea was raging once more, her grief not forgotten) she stared into the dark.  
"A ship!"  
The cry was taken up.  
"A ship!" "It is landing!"  
_Her own words and a nightmare of fire were whisked from her mind in an instant._  
"Ambarto!"  
_Not Fated. _

* * *

**Ambarto**  
A plaything of wind and waves. Torn and tattered sails, tossed about, to and fro. Up and down. Darkness and fire behind him and shallow water beneath the keel. Then the scrape of rocks and pebbles, but he heeded them not.  
A figure in white on the shore, storm-tossed and forlorn.  
Cries in the town. "A ship!" and then "A kinslayer!"  
He heeded them not. Pebbles slipped beneath his feet as he ran.  
"Ambarto!"  
"Mother! I have returned! I have returned!"  
Strong arms around him, stronger than he remembered. Voice down to a whisper.  
Certainty.  
"I am no longer Umbarto." 


	3. Nerdanel and Fëanor: Ghost

Disclaimer: The world and characters are not mine and never will be.

Author's Notes: Nerdanel is granted a chance for a farewell. This may be considered an AU.

* * *

**Ghost**

The dim sound of hammerfalls, a familiar lullaby from childhood, had accompanied her when she closed her eyes – only to open them again (_or did she?_) in a place familiar yet strange.

Mountains… Taniquetil to the South behind her, a valley and a ridge to her right. It was night, or what night there was in the Blessed Realm with the stars bright overhead. At the edge of her mind was the memory of footsteps behind her, and the call of a young voice, little older than her own, but when she looked around, searching… naught but her memories.

_They had begun here. _

She turned back to the path – to find herself face to face with Fire.

Dazzled by the sudden brightness (_he illuminated so much more than he should_) she meant to step back, but found herself drawn, gently and irresistibly, towards the white figure in the flame. Familiar… so familiar a warmth that she had thought lost… enveloping her, flaring up, fading…

Upon waking she would swear that she had felt a touch to her lips like a kiss of farewell.

It was no surprise to her when a messenger arrived, black-clad, hailing from the Halls of Mandos.


	4. Nerdanel and Fëanor: Burned

Disclaimer: The world and characters are not mine, and never will be.

Summary: Nerdanel and Fëanor towards their estrangement. One occurence among many. An attempt at a portrait of their relationship.

* * *

**Burned**

Nerdanel slept.

Her body still posed, hair and sheets carefully arranged to hide pale skin beneath, the picture she made would meet only the barest definition of decency in Tirion. A green dress lay crumpled at her feet and one hand rested on her belly to caress the unborn children.

The room was silent save for the _scratch-scratch_ of charcoal, harsh breaths indrawn whenever a stroke went awry. Smudged fingers tangled in his hair, tugged, left prints in red and black on his forehead. A _rip,_ a _rustle_. A ball of paper hit the floor, rolled, stilled.

_Scratch-scratch_. Anew and hastier. Almost desperate. _Rip. Rustle_.

Were she awake, Nerdanel would have coaxed her husband into smiles and kisses by now, and whispered (even now never without a blush to her already reddened cheeks) a better use for passion than to spend it in anger. The imperfect sketch would be flung aside, for her to find, afterwards.

But now Nerdanel slept, and upon waking would find, in the empty room, only wisps of burned paper that a breeze had swept from the fireplace. She wept to see herself so charred by the flames... and knew what time would tell.


End file.
